Coronation Band Suite
by R2-M0
Summary: A FALLING SNOW ONE-SHOT: It's Coronation Day, and Marie has returned to Arendelle for the celebration. At the evening's ball, she looks forward to reconnecting with Anna, her childhood friend. Fate, however, has different plans...


**A/N: At the end of _To Reclaim My Own_ , I mentioned that I had an idea for a one-shot set in the _Falling Snow_ continuity that I hoped to one day complete. And in fact, I did make a start on it not long thereafter. However, my motivation (already seriously drained by my three-volume marathon) petered out sooner than I expected, and I ended up shelving the story when it was barely half finished.**

 **Fast-forward to today and the writing bug has – for the first time in a long while – begun nibbling around the edges of my brain again. As a result, I pulled this out, dusted it off, and finally shoved it across the finish line. I'm reasonably pleased with the result. Hopefully some of my old readers will find it and enjoy it as well.**

 **One thing before we begin. I highly recommend you track down and listen to _Coronation Band Suite_ (from which this story takes its name) off the deluxe edition soundtrack either before, during, or after your reading. The suite actually combines three separate cues from the movie, all of which are interwoven throughout the paragraphs below. The last of these, which makes up the back half of the track, has a particularly important part to play in our story.**

 **And with that in mind, let's begin...**

* * *

 _Wudda da oomp, omph, oomp, omph, oomp, omph! Wudda da oomp, omph, oomp..._

The euphonium persistently held the rhythm while the fiddle carried the sprightly melody. The bright jingling of a tambourine sparkled around the edges; the clarinet and lute filled in the middle. It was a merry tune designed for dancing, and the guests at the ball were taking enthusiastic advantage of it. Nearly a dozen couples were twirling about the dance floor in the space that the crowd had made for them. Rose, lavender, and celadon skirts billowed out around hidden legs as partners spun in tight circles within the larger ring of dancers. Other eager invitees looked on, occasionally clapping their hands in appreciation as they awaited their chance to showcase their own skills and share their sheer delight at this most joyous of celebrations.

Right then, though, Marie was finding it difficult to concentrate on the dancing… or even on the music for that matter. Fortunately, she didn't mind all that very much. The source of her distraction was more than enough to make up for any missed entertainment.

"So then he was like, 'Oh, boy', and I was all, 'Ha, this is awkward.' But then I thought, 'Wait, that doesn't sound quite right,' so I added, 'Not you're awkward, but just because we're – I'm awkward. You're gorgeous!'"

Marie laughed in spite of herself. "Oh, Anna! You didn't!"

"I know, right? I couldn't believe it when I heard those words pop out of my mouth! I was so embarrassed, I wanted to just dive right off that boat and hide under the peer until he left. But he was a perfect gentleman. He helped me to my feet and apologized for knocking me over and everything…"

"And you say he's a prince?"

"Mm-hmm."

"A gorgeous prince."

"Mm-HMM." Anna sighed rather dreamily.

"Well, it certainly sounds like you've had an eventful Coronation Day!"

It took a moment for Anna to register the glib note in her friend's tone. "Oh! Well, of course there was the coronation, too. But talk about being awkward! Standing up there in front of all those people. And Elsa right there next to me! I felt like I ought to say something encouraging to her, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what, and before I could make up my mind, the bishop started talking, and then the choir was singing, and…"

The dance music stopped. Below Anna's breathless explanation of events, Marie heard the muted sounds of a stately trumpet fanfare. "Anna," she said with quiet urgency.

"Of course, then I saw him sitting there in the second row. And by him, I mean Prince Hans, of course. We even waved at each other, and then..."

Kai's voice rose easily above the horns. "Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

"Anna," Marie prodded again, a bit more insistently this time.

"But then it was time for Elsa to accept the orb and scepter, and you should have seen the look she gave the bishop when he reminded her that she had to remove her gloves. I really don't know what she was so upset about. After all, they weren't the least bit dirty. I mean, they'd both been freshly cleaned and polished. There couldn't have been even a speck of dust on them!"

"Princess Anna of Arendelle!"

"Anna!" The sharply whispered exclamation finally caused Anna to blink and refocus on Marie's face. Marie jerked her head toward the dais upon which the throne, the steward, and the newly-crowned queen all stood. Anna's gaze followed the gesture and, seeing Kai's outstretched arm silently beckoning her, gasped.

"Uh oh. Um, I've got to go, Marie. But we'll talk again later, okay? I promise! Just… I mean I'll… Ooh, bye!" And just like that, she was off, running across the short distance to stand in front of the steward. As she turned to face the guests, she smiled and gave an embarrassed little wave.

"Ahem." Kai had stepped up behind the princess and now gestured to a spot on the second step, right beside the queen.

"Oh, here? Are you sure?" Anna asked, even as she was ushered into position. "Because I don't think I'm supposed to… Oop! Okay." Kai withdrew and then, after the quickest of glances at Elsa, so too did Anna. To Marie's eyes, the small distance between the sisters looked like it might as well have been miles.

 _And there's the awkward again,_ she thought to herself, even as she joined the rest of the assembled guests in applauding Arendelle's royalty.

The crowd soon returned to their individual conversations or else headed off to refill their drinks and indulge in some of the many fine delicacies that had been laid out for them. Marie, however, continued to watch Anna as she stood beside her sister looking singularly uncomfortable.

 _Come on, Anna,_ Marie silently urged her life-long friend. _Say something._

But no. Instead, Anna began to turn away, one hand absentmindedly tucking behind her ear an imagined strand of hair that hadn't actually come loose. It was an old habit that Marie recognized all too well, one that Anna often fell back upon whenever she got nervous. _She's right there,_ Marie thought, the words now louder inside her head. _How long have you been waiting to talk to your sister face-to-face like this, Anna? Now is your chance!_

Then something surprising happened. Marie saw Elsa's lips move, and though she couldn't hear what had been said, it was obvious from Anna's reaction that she had also been startled by whatever words had been spoken. Even from this distance, Marie could tell from her body language that she was flustered and unsure how to respond.

Yet respond Anna did, and Marie saw Elsa smile in return. Then they kept talking! And was that…? It was! Elsa had laughed! Now there were smiles on both sisters' faces. And a few short seconds later, the two were laughing together at what looked like some shared private joke.

Marie felt the smile lifting the corners of her own mouth. Yes. Finally, maybe this joyous day would actually be the one when the two young women could put the years of painful separation behind them and get back to being what they'd always wanted to be. Sisters. Friends. Family.

She saw Anna open her mouth to say something else to Elsa, but then the princess suddenly seemed to freeze in place. For a moment, Marie was confused. Then she realized what had happened. Kai, the royal family's ever-faithful steward, had come forward with some dignitary or other – a short old man that Marie didn't recognize but whom she immediately disliked. How dare he! Hadn't he seen the quiet moment that Elsa and Anna had been sharing? What right did he have to interrupt it? Didn't he understand how important it was?

No, of course he didn't, she reminded herself. He undoubtedly knew as little about the sisters' personal struggles as she herself knew about whatever kingdom or principality he must represent. He was only doing his job, paying his respects to Arendelle's newly crowned ruler, ingratiating himself to her on his people's behalf… and doing it rather badly. Marie gasped, then covered her mouth with both hands as the poor man bowed deeply before Her Majesty. Seemingly without his knowledge, his toupee had detached itself from his scalp and flipped forward like the lid of the most peculiar box she had ever seen.

Marie barely had time to recover from this shock before the next one came hot on its heels. With practically no warning, the old man swooped forward, hooked Anna by the elbow, and began to lead (more like drag) her out into the middle of the dance floor.

Turning half around in her seat, she looked up at the man who stood behind her, dressed in the distinctive grey-green livery of the palace staff. He had been assigned to her for the evening to assist in navigating the festivities, and though she couldn't help but feel slightly guilty every time she imposed upon his kindness, this was something she simply _had_ to see.

"Pieter," she began, "would you mind moving me someplace where I can better see the dancers, please?"

"Not at all, Miss," he replied with a genial nod. Then, taking firm hold of the handles, he pushed her wheelchair forward and began to deftly maneuver it between the other guests until, a few seconds later, she was peering between swirling dresses and carefully pressed trousers at Anna. Her friend was standing almost motionless in the midst of everything, looking thoroughly bemused at the funny little man who was capering around her like an anemic peacock having some sort of seizure.

Again, Marie raised a hand to her mouth to hide her smile, but the precaution proved utterly inadequate when the man grabbed Anna by one hand, slipped his other behind her waist, and suddenly tipped her over so that she was nearly bent double backwards. Seeing this, it was all Marie could do to keep from roaring loud enough to drown out the music. She buried her face in her hands, covering both mouth and eyes as her entire body shook with barely contained laughter.

By the time Marie regained enough self-control to dare lower her hands, she was hopelessly out of breath. Meanwhile, Anna had disappeared from the dance floor. Marie looked around, but she could not spot her friend among all the other guests crowded into the hall. Oh, well. There would be time enough to find her again later… and to taunt her mercilessly about her first dance of the night. For the moment, Marie contented herself with taking in the beauty and splendor of the evening: the brightly-colored ball gowns, the sharply dressed gentlemen, and the lilting music that wove through the spaces in-between.

In that way, time passed quite pleasantly by. Marie continued to watch for Anna, eager for the chance to talk to her again – and about so much more than a single dance. Still, she caught not a glimpse of that distinctive strawberry-blond head. She did see Elsa every now and then, however. The queen had come down off the dais and was now mingling among her guests. There seemed to be an endless supply of ambassadors and foreign royalty with whom she was obliged to exchange pleasantries. Every time Marie would catch sight of her through an opening between bodies, she appeared to be caught in conversation with some important looking person or other.

Then abruptly, a gap parted directly in front of Marie and there stood Elsa, momentarily alone in a little oasis of calm. Marie turned again to look up at the aide behind her and gestured. With a silent nod, he pushed her forward and into the gap. Her chair rolled up behind Elsa, who was facing the other way and quietly surveying the celebration. Not wanting to startle her, Marie cleared her throat just loud enough to be heard over the surrounding hubbub.

In the instant before Elsa turned, Marie thought she detected the slightest change in her posture. She seemed to stand up just a bit straighter, pulled her shoulders back a little and lifted her chin. Then she spun on her heel so elegantly, it was as though she stood on a turntable, and when Marie saw her straight on, she realized for the first time that she was not looking at Elsa, the sister of one of her oldest and dearest friends. Instead, she was looking up at Her Majesty, the Queen of Arendelle.

The illusion lasted only a second, however. It was clear almost immediately that Elsa had been expecting to find yet another dignitary waiting to ply her with compliments. So when her eyes fell on the young brunette woman in the wheelchair, she was momentarily thrown for a loss. Then recognition spread across her face followed almost immediately by a brilliant smile, and her entire body perceptibly relaxed.

"Marie!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it's so wonderful to see you! I'm so glad you were able to come."

"My sincerest congratulations on your coronation, Queen Elsa," Marie said, bending at the waist in a seated bow. "And of course I came. I wouldn't have missed this for anything."

"You haven't had any difficulties, have you?" Elsa asked solicitously. "I hope Pieter has been helpful." She gave the man a quick look which clearly indicated that, if he had somehow managed to be less than helpful in any way, his chances of continued employment at the palace would suffer greatly.

"Pieter has been a perfect gentleman," Marie reassured her. "I haven't had any problems at all." And having thus completed the opening formalities, she decided to take a chance at a slightly more personal exchange. "I was so glad to see you and Anna talking together, Your Majesty," she said with delicate care. "I know how much that must have meant to her. To both of you."

At this comment, Elsa's smile slipped a little so that it looked slightly strained. Then she looked up and gazed around the room. "Where is Anna?" she wondered aloud. "Have you seen her? She ought to be here for this. Where _has_ she gotten off to?"

"I spoke with her earlier," said Marie. "She was… very excited." And she smiled at the thought of her friend's energetic eagerness, little changed since the time when the two of them used to play together out back in the royal gardens.

In contrast, Elsa's smile faltered and began to fade in earnest. Marie couldn't know it, but Elsa was also being affected by memories of Anna, only in her case, she was painfully recalling the last conversation she'd had with her sister and how she had so unerringly managed to pop that selfsame bubble of excitement. "All the more reason she should be here," she said, her voice becoming increasingly distracted. "Kai, could you please find…?"

But as she turned to look for the steward, she found herself instead facing a tall gentleman in a forest-green jacket worked with elaborate gold trim. Beside him stood a woman dressed in pale lilac, her round and open face smiling genially.

"Your Majesty," said the couple with a bow and a curtsy.

"Oh," replied Elsa, momentarily nonplussed. "I'm sorry. I was just..."

"Prince William III of Florin," said the man, "and this is my wife, Angelica. On behalf of Florin, we would like to extend our congratulations to you on this joyous day, as well as the hope for deeper relations between our two kingdoms in the future."

"Well… Yes, thank you." With a visible effort, Elsa pulled her royalty back together. "I appreciate the sentiment, and I am certain that we will have a great deal to discuss in the days and months ahead. However, I was just..."

Elsa attempted to gesture behind her to indicate her interrupted conversation, but the prince seemed completely oblivious. "As a matter of fact," he continued, "I was just saying to the Duke of Weselton..."

"Weaseltown," Elsa said under her breath, almost automatically.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Well, I was just saying to the Duke of Weselton..."

It was clear to Marie that Elsa was not going to be able to extract herself from this conversation any time soon, and indeed, it looked as though a queue was again forming behind the Florins – important guests eager to pay their respects to the new queen. But that was fine. At least she'd been able to offer her own congratulations. Once again she looked back at Pieter and, with a tilt of her head, indicated that they should quietly leave Elsa to the business of royal politics.

As her chair first backed her away and then began to turn around, something swung into view that caught Marie's eye. "Pieter," she said, "do you think I could go sit by the band for a while? I'd dearly love to listen to them play without having to strain to hear over all the other noise in here."

"Of course, Miss Marie," he said, immediately adjusting their trajectory to point toward the new destination. Within seconds, he had discretely slipped her in behind and slightly to one side of the five-piece ensemble.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked once he had her safely in position. He sounded slightly nervous to Marie's ears, and she couldn't help but wonder if Elsa's admonitory glance earlier had unsettled him more than he cared to let on. "A drink, perhaps?"

She smiled up at him, hoping to calm his nerves with the kindness. "A glass of punch would be lovely, thank you." He nodded before hurrying off, looking like a man who very much wanted to remain gainfully employed.

Marie then turned back again, gripped the arms of her chair, and leaned forward, eagerly drinking in every sight and sound. After all, the only thing better than being in the audience for a performance was getting to watch from backstage!

Granted, there wasn't actually a stage here to speak of – just a section of floor and a couple of chairs that had been set aside for the band's express use. Still, she _was_ sitting behind the musicians – in the wings, as it were, all but hidden from the rest of the room behind one of the double-pillared columns that flanked their performance space.

As far as Marie was concerned, it truly was the perfect vantage point. She was close enough that not only would she be able to hear the music clearly, but she would also be able to observe each individual's technique as applied to their chosen instrument. And almost as interesting, she even found herself privy to the muted words that inevitably passed amongst performers between songs. In fact, one such discussion was underway at that very moment.

"Not bad, lads. Not bad," the lutist was saying as he adjusted a tuning peg "But isn't this supposed to be a party?" Beneath his rather large nose, the corners of a gray mustache curved upward in jolly fashion. "Too many more songs like that and the guests'll all be falling asleep!"

"Yes, but it's the queen's night," said the nervous young man holding the clarinet. "We don't want to draw the attention away from her, now do we?"

"Seems to me," said the heavyset man in their midst, "that it was the queen who hired us to play here tonight to keep her guests entertained." He flicked the water key on his euphonium to clear the pipes. "Also seems like they all enjoyed the last dance we played. Why not give 'em another one to liven things up a bit?"

"Man's got a point," agreed the fiddler before turning to regard the tambourinist. "What do you think, Moris?"

A shrug of the shoulders and an indifferent tilt of the head was the balding man's sole reply, though judging by the others' reactions, it seemed as though this must represent the man at his most enthusiastic.

"Fine, fine," relented the young clarinet player with a small chuckle. "You all win. Somebody pick the tune already and let's play!"

If their earlier dance number had been sprightly, this one seemed more like a challenge to prospective dancers to show off their athletic prowess. Both stringed instruments were pouring out furious flurries of notes. The cheeks of the euphonium player pumped air into the brass pipes at such a rate, it was a wonder he was even able to fill his lungs fast enough to keep up.

Out in the middle of the ballroom, the guests drifted toward the edges to clear the middle for those dancers brazen enough to risk the tune. It didn't take long for the first brave souls to step, spin, and twirl their way out onto the polished floor. The couples were mostly among the youngest there, although a few older pairings had decided to demonstrate that they weren't all _that_ old yet. From the periphery, cheers and shouts of encouragement accompanied some of the bolder moves, and soon all those who weren't dancing were clapping in time to the tune, which amazingly seemed to be picking up speed as it went.

When at last the song ended, only a few of the heartiest couples still remained on the dance floor and their faces glowed red from their efforts. Sweat was likewise standing out upon most of the musicians foreheads... all except for Moris, who somehow looked as fresh as if he'd just toweled off after a cold bath.

Marie simply couldn't help herself. "Bravo!" she cried out as she joined in the applause. "Bravissimo! That was absolutely wonderful!"

All five musicians turned as though surprised to see her there – which, she realized, they probably were. The lute player spoke first, his mustache quivering with amusement. "Ah, a lover of the arts, I see."

Marie, flushed from both the music's energy and a touch of embarrassment, nodded. "Yes sir, I am, and a student as well. I'm studying at the Paris Conservatory, you see, and..."

"Really?" interrupted the fiddler, his eyebrows rising. "Vocal? Instrumental? Composition?"

"A bit of everything," she answered.

"What's your instrument?"

"Well, I've learned piano and I'm reasonably proficient with the flute, but my first love is and always has been the violin."

The man stood a little straighter and nodded once with pride. "An excellent choice, my dear."

"Any good, are you?" asked the lutist.

Marie's blush darkened. "I like to think so."

The band members exchanged silent looks followed by silent nods. Then the lutist spoke again. "Would you like to sit in for a song?"

Marie gasped before shaking her head. "Oh, I couldn't possibly. This is a royal coronation! Everything's been so carefully planned, and I wouldn't risk ruining it by presuming to..."

The euphonium player, having finally recovered his breath after the exertions of the previous piece, chuckled loudly. "My lady, do we look like professional musicians to you? I mean yes, we are getting paid for tonight's merriment, but Moris here is a butcher by trade. Jacques's a cobbler. Gerhard runs the second-best haberdashery in town."

" _Finest_ haberdashery, Uwe," said the lute player. "It's pronounced _finest_." More chuckles at what was obviously an old joke shared by this small group of friends.

"My point is," continued Uwe, "that we play together for fun, not for our livelihoods. Most of us are either self-taught or else learned how to play from one relative or another. If you've had any formal training at all, chances are you're already a good sight better than any of us."

"But I don't have my instrument," Marie protested. "I left it in my room."

"You can borrow mine," offered the fiddler and the only one of the five men to whom a name had not yet been attached. Before she could protest, he held it out to her. "It would be my honor."

Marie continued to demur. "I haven't practiced," she said. "I doubt I know any of the music you came prepared to play."

Now Jacques, the clarinetist, spoke up. "I know a little something about the Conservatoire de Paris," he said, "and from what I've heard, you don't get in there without a good bit of talent. Am I correct in guessing that you have some skill in picking up music by ear, even without sheet music?" Hesitantly, Marie nodded. "Well then, problem solved," he said brightly. "We'll start the piece. You can just sit and listen through the first turn and then, when we bring it back around again, you can jump in. Simple enough, right?"

"I don't know..." Marie remained hesitant.

"Oh, come now," Gerhard laughed. "This is a party. Everyone is supposed to have fun, and that includes you. And don't you dare try to tell me that you don't want to play. I've been watching your fingers twitch ever since Thom offered you his fiddle. One way or the other, you'd best make your mind up quickly. Our audience is getting restless."

Marie chanced a glance at the rest of the ballroom's occupants and sure enough, more than a few heads were turned their way wondering at the cause of the prolonged break in the music. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to accept the musician's generous offer, until…

Across the room, she suddenly saw Anna. Her dear friend stood in the doorway, craning her neck to see through the mass of guests, and on her arm was a startlingly attractive man, impeccably dressed in a smartly cut jacket with elaborate epaulets and golden embroidery that almost certainly marked him as royalty. And if his clothing wasn't enough to identify him as the charming prince about whom Anna had spoken to her earlier, the giddy smile on Anna's face sealed the deal in Marie's mind.

"Okay," she said to the band, though without taking her eyes off Anna. "Okay, I'll do it. But might I make a request?"

"But of course!"

"Play something romantic. But not too romantic. You know, romantic but… fun." She winced a little. "If you know any tunes like that."

Gerhard, Jacques, and Thom shared a look. "I think we may have just the number," Thom said, and then pressed his instrument into Marie's hands. She accepted it with a small smile, settled the chin rest underneath her jaw, then waited. Gerhard counted them in, and the other four began to play.

Marie recognized almost immediately that the piece was perfect. It was lively and spritely, but nowhere near as energetic as the previous dance had been. The melody was simple yet delightful, with a playfulness from the clarinet that was almost flirtatious. Marie's smile grew even brighter. She raised the bow, placed it upon the strings, and jumped in even before the end of the first turn. She saw the gleam of approval in the eyes of her fellow musicians as, with a few short strokes, she deftly wove the violin into the tapestry of the music.

They spun back into the refrain, and this time Marie took up the melody. Her hands moved almost of their own accord, the music flowing from her as naturally as did breath. Again, she turned her eyes to the room at large, and they instantly found Anna in the middle of the floor, still clinging to the handsome gentleman in the spotless white uniform. Anna was speaking animatedly to her sister, though every now and then she turned adoring eyes upon the prince. Warm feelings of happiness for her friend welled up within Marie, and she did all she could to channel them straight into her playing.

Then something changed. Even from a distance, Marie could tell. Elsa had stepped forward and raised her gloved hands in a clear gesture of negation. Anna's face fell. She looked hurt, almost as though she'd just been slapped. She continued holding tightly to one of the prince's hands, but she too stepped forward, obviously confronting her sister about what seemed to be a painful point of contention. And just like that, everything began to go wrong.

Marie's play faltered as she lost track of the chord progression. A measure later, she lowered both bow and violin to her lap, the music forgotten as she watched the drama unfolding across the room. She couldn't hear the words being exchanged, but she saw that Anna had retreated and was once again clinging to the prince's arm. Elsa was speaking, yet her face was that of the Queen of Arendelle. She finished whatever it was she had to say and then, with an awful finality, turned her back on Anna and began to walk away.

"Miss. Miss?" It was Pieter. The musicians had quickly wrapped up their number as soon as they realized that they had lost Marie. Now the palace staffer, who must have returned sometime during the performance, was leaning forward and trying to offer a glass filled with rose-red liquid to his charge. "Your drink, Miss." Marie barely heard him. She was watching Anna running after Elsa, reaching out, grabbing her left hand and spinning her around.

Elsa's glove slipped off her fingers. She snatched at it, but Anna pulled it back and pressed it tightly against her breast. She appeared to be pleading with her sister, her voice rising steadily until Marie clearly heard the anguished words, "Elsa, please! Please, I can't live like this anymore." Other heads were also turning now at the sound of the mounting confrontation, and the room had suddenly grown so silent that Elsa's reply, though quietly spoken, nevertheless carried to every corner.

"Then leave."

Marie's throat constricted painfully. Even though Anna's back was turned toward her, the sudden shocked slump of her shoulders left Marie in no doubt how badly those two simple words had hurt her. Elsa, her arms held tightly across her chest, turned again and resumed walking toward the exit, her head bowed under the weight of everything she had just said.

Marie could now see Anna's shoulders rising and falling with barely restrained emotion. Then the princess snapped. "What did I ever do to you?" she shouted, and now every face in the room turned in her direction.

"Enough, Anna."

"No, why?" Anna retorted, her voice growing louder with every word. "Why do you shut me out? W-why do you shut the world out? What are you so _afraid_ of?"

Elsa, who had just reached the doors, spun around, her bare hand sweeping through an angry arc as she did so. "I said _ENOUGH!_ "

Electric blue sparks flew from the queen's fingertips, slamming into the polished wooden floor like hurricane-driven rain. At every spot where they impacted, dagger-sharp needles of some clear crystal formed and rapidly grew, some reaching five, eight, ten feet in length. The guests nearest the door withdrew in shock and fear. Within seconds, Elsa was half surrounded by a jagged wall of gleaming… ice?

Whispers. Terrified faces. Every pair of eyes fixed mercilessly upon Elsa as she cowered against the door, trembling. One hand groped blindly until it finally found the doorknob and then, with a strangled gasp, Elsa turned, flung the door open, and tore from the room, her long royal cape billowing out behind her.

No one else moved.

But off to one side, beside the five members of the Coronation Band who sat as mutely dumbfounded as anyone else in the hall, Marie clasped both hands over her mouth. Tears spilled down her cheeks as pieces in a long-unsolved puzzle finally began to fall into place. She wanted to cry out to Anna, but she found herself unable to make a sound. All she could do was watch as, alone among all those assembled in the ballroom, Anna found the courage to move. Skirting around the fan of ice, she paused just long enough to glance back once over her shoulder. Then she turned and raced off down the lamp-lit corridor, pursuing the sister who, at long last, she was just beginning to understand.

Marie, now weeping uncontrollably, sent her most heartfelt wishes flying along after her friend. _Find her, Anna. She needs you, maybe even more than you need her. Find her._ _Find her and bring her back here. And then maybe, just maybe, the two of you together will finally be able to bring your family's long nightmare to an end._

From beside her, Moris the tambourine player leaned over and patted her gently on the arm.

"That was lovely music you played there, my dear," he said, perhaps because he had no idea what else he could possibly say. "Really… quite lovely."


End file.
